Nash sighed, seeing on his brothers’ faces the shock he felt himself. “Now do you believe me?” Nash knew it down to his bones. Someone was dead set on ruining their good name. Though, while he suspected Clint had some involvement, this time he was wise enough not to say the bastard’s name.
Shep’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Before I had doubts, but now . . .” He cocked his head. “Darryl really said it was our beef?”
Nash nodded.
“Well, fuck,” Chase muttered. “We all know contaminated beef would never get through the company.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Nash agreed.
There was a long pause. Emma stared at all of them for answers that no one seemed to have. All Nash knew was that he wanted Megan there. And yet, at the same time, he wasn’t sure he could hide the fact that he thought her father was behind this.
His chest began to tighten. Air seemed impossible to inhale.
The loaded silence continued, filled with so many unanswered questions, until Chase asked, “How do we even begin to fix this?”
They all looked to Emma.
She gave a tight smiled and pointed to herself. “Marketing expert, right?”
Shep slid an arm around her. “It is your area of expertise, beautiful.”
She smiled warmly at him then tapped a finger against her lip. “All right. Here’s what we’ll do.” Bright-eyed, she glanced between them. “We contact the newspaper.”
Nash snorted. “We’re trying to avoid the media, Emma, not seek them out.”
“But that could bite us in the ass,” she countered. “We need to get ahead of this story and control the narrative. So, let’s contact that reporter who did such an amazing story on the ranch before. We can give her a quote that we take this matter very seriously. That we are investigating fully and will report our findings when we have them.”
Chase frowned. “Is that wise? What if it comes back that the meat was actually contaminated?”
Emma glanced at Nash. “Any chance you’re wrong about someone being behind this?”
“No,” he said, adamant.
She smiled at him. A soft, sweet smile that was the embodiment of her kind soul. “Then we have nothing to worry about.”
Shep studied her, then Nash, and finally gave a firm nod. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
A sinking coldness washed over Nash with the responsibility that Emma had just put on his head, no matter if she was merely trying to show her trust in him. If he was wrong, they were fucked. Even more than they already were.
“Let me know what you need from me.” Nash’s gut twisted as he turned to get away from it all. Unable to find words to explain the shit eating him up, he walked away.
“You all right?” Shep called.
No, he was anything but all right. All he wanted was not to blame Clint, to keep the peace between them, but he was sure as shit Megan’s father had a hand in this somehow. On top of that, the person who had set the fire and poisoned the guests today could very likely be someone Nash trusted. Someone his mother was friendly with. “I need to go feed the cats,” he said, not looking back. They’d left them at home to go to the music festival, full of food and safe in his laundry room, sleeping on blankets.
“Nash,” Chase said, his voice tight with worry.
He kept walking. His chest was constricted, limbs cold. For a moment tonight, he’d tasted happiness. For a sweet moment. Then Clint was back fucking everything up, and so was the harsh reminder that happiness was a prickly bitch.
* * *
The fun day at the musical festival ended before it could even get started. Jenny had noticed her sons’ disappearance half an hour after they left. One phone call to Shep, and Jenny and the doctor had gone to the hospital to help the sick guests. Megan had Harper drop her off at Kinky Spurs for her shift that night.
Megan had texted Nash: Do you need me?
He replied: Later, I will. Enjoy your shift.
She left Nash alone after that. Her fingers itched to dial his phone number, but she imagined he was knee-deep in shit. Maybe even literally.